


Healing Hands

by Tseecka



Series: DARP Kisses [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Healing, Kissing Meme, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 05:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2096814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tseecka/pseuds/Tseecka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone else has come to Anders with their injuries from the day--except Jonathan.</p><p>---</p><p>For a Tumblr RP Kissing Meme, Prompt: "Back Kiss"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ghostchibi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostchibi/gifts).



> Jonathan Hawke belongs to [ghostchibi](http://redtailedhawke.tumblr.com)

The only indication Anders has that Hawke is even home is the faint groaning coming from upstairs. Making a face, Anders takes the steps two at a time, one hand pulling himself up the railing at speed while the other clenches into a first at his side. 

He understands Jonathan’s reluctance to take him with their little party, knows that the recent, ever more frequent close-calls worry the man more than he cares to admit; but when those who  _do_ accompany the man to the Wounded Coast all file through his clinic door but one, it’s difficult to keep himself from voicing the bitter self-commentary. 

"I should have been there," he mutters to himself again, for good measure, a practice run for telling the same to his stubborn lover and this time  **not**  backing down. The Void can take him if he allows Jonathan to go forth and do battle without him again. 

His ire dies down, somewhat, when he sees the man laid out spread-eagled on his bed, face down against the plush coverlet. Already, Anders’ practiced eye can see that unlike their friends—Jonathan’s friends, he amends, only a little bitter—he hasn’t been injured at all. His skin is whole and unrent, and aside from one bruise over his ribs, he seems fine. Instead of marching straight in and demanding this be resolved, he sighs, and knocks on the door frame before entering. 

Jonathan grumbles something from his position on the bed as Anders comes abreast of the mattress and raises an eyebrow down at him. 

"Varric, Merrill, and Aveline all are torn to pieces to varying degrees," he says conversationally, and pats Jonathan’s shoulder. The man flinches.  _Interesting_. “So even though you don’t have a scratch on you, there is no way I’m going to believe that you somehow escaped unscathed. What happened?”

It takes some convincing and cajoling, but eventually, Anders drags it out of Jonathan—he’s sore all over, muscles tight from taking the brunt of an enemy’s chain lightning attack. Anders runs a hand over his shoulders and feels the knots of tension in the muscles, and tuts soothingly, relieved enough that Jonathan is mostly okay to tease him a little.

He sheds the long robes that drape his form, leaving him in trouser pants and a light undershirt, and straddles Jonathan’s hips. The man makes a sound of dismay, and Anders leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin between the tensed shoulder blades. 

"Relax, love; let me take care of you," he whispers, and kisses the apex of two more vertebrae before he digs his thumbs and fingertips gently into the stubborn muscle and begins working to loosen the knots.


End file.
